Dray by Tess Oliver


  There was a long pause. “No, the opposite. I was thinking about your hardened nipples rubbing against the fabric of my t-shirt.”

  My breath quickened at his response and I closed my eyes as I slid a hand over my breast.

  A message came back. “That night when I came home and you were making dinner in nothing but that awesome fucking corset you’d bought at the mall.”

  My face heated and my knees weakened at the thought of it. I’d felt completely wicked buying the thing, and I’d had to have several drinks before putting it on. But it had been worth it. “The dinner burned.”

  “Hell yeah it did. I loved that corset.”

  “I only wore it the one time because you ripped open the lacings.”

  “That was your fault.”

  “How was that my fault?”

  “You stepped out of the kitchen wearing nothing but that corset. What were you expecting? Restraint?”

  I laughed. “That night when I’d dented my car on a pole and it had rained all day and I got home completely drenched and miserable. And you took off my clothes and filled the tub with bubbles. And you kissed me for hours.” I pressed send and a cry fell from my lips. I missed him so much I could feel the despair down to the tips of my hair.

  There was a long silence. My fingers were shaking slightly as I typed the next message. “I forfeit.”

  It took him a minute to respond. “Too late. I already lost. I tapped out after the t-shirt.”

  A short sad laugh escaped me. “Good night, Dray.”

  “Dray? Who’s Dray?”

  I laughed again. “Sleep tight.”

  “Good night, Cass.”

  Chapter 18

  Dray

  I stared at the picture for the hundredth time since Cassie had sent it. It was such a stupid ass thing but knowing that she still wore my t-shirt to bed had made me ridiculously happy. I stuck the phone back into my locker and shut it.

  It felt good to have my hand back, and even though I was once again jobless and loveless, things seemed to be slowly heading back in the right direction. Barrett was out on the floor practicing jabs and kicks on a heavy bag. He’d left some of Clutch’s weights out on the patio so he’d been banished from using them. He’d bought a temporary pass for Tank’s Gym, and I was glad to have someone to workout with.

  Barrett stooped over and braced his hands on his thighs. His back lifted and fell with deep breaths. “Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever had a workout like this. Those step-ups almost killed me. Now fifteen minutes with this bag and I feel like a wet noodle. No wonder you’re so fucking tough.” He straightened and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “This place makes Clutch’s weight machine seem like a trip to Disneyland.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know how the hell that guy stays so massive. He’s so busy working, does he even have time to work out anymore?”

  “My brother was born looking like Hercules. I don’t think there was ever a time when he wasn’t huge. And, as far as working out goes, he’s getting plenty of exercise with his copper-haired personal trainer.”

  “Lucky bastard,” I said. “Which reminds me, I have a check for him. My mom sold the house, and she actually felt guilty enough to send me some money.”

  “Great, I’m meeting him at Freefall. Taylor and Scotlyn are both busy with homework, so Clutch, Nix and I are going out for steaks and you can come along. You’ve been like a goddamned recluse these past few weeks. We can talk about Mexico on the way to the shop.”

  I picked up my towel and wiped my face. “I don’t know, Barrett. Sounds kind of sketchy.”

  “Dude,” he held out his hands, “surfing, beer and hot local chicks, what part of that is sketchy? Look, we’re both between work, and we aren’t attached to any girls right now. It’s in the stars. One of my buddies has a grandfather who lives near Mazatlan. The old guy’s a fisherman, and he owns a few beach huts along the coast. I guess he moves around during the year to follow the fish. The hut is free, and the surfboards are already there so we don’t have to pay to take ours on the airplane. I’m telling you, it’s too good to pass up. I mean what could happen?”

  The door to Tank’s office opened. I clenched my jaw assuming that Josh would walk out. It was Tank. He waved.

  “Who’s that?” Barrett asked.

  “That’s the owner.”

  Tank made his way over to us.

  “Surprised to see you here, Tank. Are your snappy golf shorts and argyle socks at the dry cleaners?”

  “Always the funny man, Warner. Care to step into the ring with me?”

  I laughed. “Hell no. In fact, you’re the one guy who I would be scared shitless to face down in the ring. Even if you have grown a soft golfer’s belly. Too many fruity drinks at the club, eh?”

  “Just you wait until you pass fifty, Warner.” His mouth straightened in a grim line. “Hey, I was sorry to hear about your dad. I know he wasn’t much of a parent but still . . .”

  “Yeah, thanks. Hey, Tank, this is my friend, Barrett. He’s trying out a membership.”

  Tank nodded at Barrett. “Welcome.” He turned to me, his expression still serious. “Dray, I heard that Josh has been a real asshole to you when I’m not around.”

  I shrugged. “No matter.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’m pretty sure he rigged the competition so that his friends would walk off with the money. No doubt some of the coins passed his palm as well.” Tank shook his head. “That kid has been a piece of barbed wire in my ass since I married his mom. I gave him a chance, mostly at her insistence, but he’s done. I’ll have to look for someone else to manage the place. In the meantime, I’ll be around more again.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. There were many times when the guy had been more of a dad than my real dad. Although, in my case, my weekend soccer coach, the principal and even the guy at the corner liquor store where I used to ride my bike to for candy had been more parent-like than my dad. “Tank, I’m sorry that you can’t golf as much right now, but I’m damn glad you’re back.”

  Barrett and I headed to the showers. “You know something, Rett? For the first time in months, I feel like things are getting better. I’ve got some money, and I could use some time to clear my head. Let’s go surfing. We’ll just go for a week and then when I get back I’ll get serious about finding a job. And, like you said, what’s the worst that could happen? A jellyfish sting?”

  ***

  Tilly, Nix’s new counter person, the fourth in a string of failed attempts at replacing Cassie, looked up from her phone. She was one of those girls who seemed to make it her life’s goal to fade into the background. Underneath the plain exterior, she was actually pretty, but she looked like the type who didn’t care, which was fine except that she wasn’t terribly friendly either. She did manage a tiny smile for Barrett.

  “Nix is just finishing up,” she muttered between text messages. Her constant texting had been something that was already bugging Nix, and I was pretty sure Tilly would be history soon. No one was Cassie. She was impossible to replace.

  A beautiful girl with blue eyes and jet black hair walked out looking a little pale and teary eyed. She had a new butterfly tattoo on her neck. The girl stood unsteadily at the counter as she pulled out her wallet.

  Nix came out of the back. “Rachel, are you sure you don’t want to lie down until Blake comes to pick you up?”

  “No, I’m fine,” she answered with a wavering voice.

  “That neck area can be really sensitive to pain,” Nix assured her.

  “I’ll say,” she said weakly. She paid for her tattoo. Barrett swept right in to offer his arm to help her to the couch. Which, being a member of the female race, she took willingly. He escorted her to the couch with all the chivalry and manners of a guy who didn’t normally slip out of a girl’s house before dawn, leaving behind pretend promises of a phone call. The girl’s smooth cheeks turned instantly from sallow pink to cherry rose as she sat down and gazed up at Barrett.

  I
followed Nix into the back while he cleaned up his tools. “Hey, I’ve got money for that wolverine tattoo. My mom finally sent a check. I know I owe you some back rent too.” I sat down on Nix’s stool. “Hell, it seems I owe everyone money at the moment. I really fucked up by hitting that asshole down at the docks.”

  Nix stacked up his plastic ink containers. “From what you told me, I think anyone would have lost it. The guy was asking for it.”

  “Yeah, but that means I gave him what he wanted. He ended up with a broken nose, but I ended up out of work.” The bell on the door rang, and I glanced out toward the front room. Clutch walked inside.

  Tilly poked her head into the back. “I’m leaving, Nix. I’ll be here at nine to open.”

  “All right,” Nix answered without looking up from his work.

  “How’s that new girl working out?” I asked.

  Nix glanced toward the front room to make sure she was gone. “She’s not. Don’t think I’ll ever find anyone like Cassie. Hell, I might just tattoo Cassie’s name on my back to prove how much I need her. I haven’t talked to her lately. How’s she doing?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know. Sometimes it’s easier not to talk to her. Don’t think I could handle hearing that she met someone else.”

  He looked over at me but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

  I stood and took my wallet out of my back pocket. “I’ve got a check to pay Clutch back for my operation.” I turned back to Nix. “The steaks are on me tonight.”

  “Cool,” he said, “but not necessary. Of course, if you’re picking up the beer tab too—”

  I snorted. “Not with the way those two guys out there can down beer.”

  “Tell them I’ll be right there. And make sure Barrett isn’t making the moves on that girl. Her boyfriend is a regular client of mine.”

  The girl with the new neck tattoo sat in stunned silence staring at the marvels that were the Mason brothers. They’d always had a knack for rendering a room silent with their presence.

  “Hey, Dray.” Clutch looked up from the magazine he’d been flipping through on the counter. “I hear you’re going to grace us with your presence tonight?”

  “More than that.” I slapped the check down on the counter in front of him. “The steaks are on me.”

  He picked up the check and looked at it. “What the hell? Did you sell a kidney or something?”

  “Nope. Didn’t have to sell any organs or stand on any street corner. My mom sent me some money from the sale of the house.”

  A car horn blasted outside. The girl stood from the couch with some effort. She still hadn’t recuperated from her tattoo session. Clutch and I both caught the look on Barrett’s face at the same time.

  He hurried to the door. Barrett looked back at the girl who was making her way across the room. “He should come in and walk you out.”

  “I’m fine. My head stopped spinning a few minutes ago,” she said softly, but something about the way she looked at Barrett made it seem that she wouldn’t mind a dramatic collapse into his arms.

  “Let me walk you out then.” Barrett took her arm.

  “Rett,” Clutch said, “if her boyfriend is out there waiting for her then maybe you should just let her go out alone.”

  Barrett ignored Clutch and walked the girl out to the waiting car. Clutch crossed his arms as we watched. “What do you think the odds are of that idiot keeping his mouth shut when he reaches the car?”

  We continued to watch. Barrett opened the car door for the girl. He leaned down to the driver and said something.

  “Hey, Nix,” I called to the back. “This client, the boyfriend of the butterfly chick, what’s he like?”

  Nix came in and he looked out the window. “He’s kind of a worm, but he gets a new tattoo every month so he’s all right in my book. What the hell is Rett doing?”

  I glanced over at Nix. “He walked the girl to the car because she was still feeling faint. Although I’m beginning to think it was all for Barrett’s attention.” The car drove off. Barrett combed back his long hair with his fingers as he returned to the shop. His eyes widened as he realized he had an audience.

  “What are you all staring at? The guy was a douche.”

  “You don’t see any irony here?” Clutch asked dryly.

  “What do you mean? Or do I even want to know?”

  “You bend over backwards when a girl is in trouble or needs your help, but you don’t give a shit about breaking a girl’s heart every time you take one home and then sneak out on her while she’s sleeping.”

  Barrett actually seemed to be reflecting about Clutch’s statement. Then he waved it off. “Not the same. Horny is not the same as a damsel in distress. Besides, if you think about it, if they are horny then I’m doing them a favor as well.”

  “Your chivalry knows no end.” Nix headed to the back again.

  Barrett pointed his direction. “See, even the ‘heartbreak kid’ agrees.”

  “That was hardly an agreement, Rett,” Nix called over the sound of water running and metal tools clanging.

  Clutch pocketed the check. “I’m glad you’re coming tonight, Dray. You need to talk some sense into this fool. He’s still planning to go to Mexico for a surfing vacation.”

  I looked over at Barrett and then back at Clutch. “But if I talk him out of it then I’d have to go alone.”

  Clutch’s face dropped. “Don’t even fucking tell me you’re going too.”

  “Yep. We bought plane tickets just before we got here.”

  “Hey, Nix, Dray is going to Mexico too.”

  Nix came back out. I put up a hand to stop him from commenting.

  “It’s a week of surfing on a remote little beach near Mazatlan, which is a popular resort town. What’s the big deal? You two have to stop wearing your old lady faces and be happy for us. We’re going to have a great time.”

  Nix shook his head. “I don’t know, man. It’s dangerous down there. Lots of corruption—”

  “That’s only if you get into trouble. We’re not stupid. We’re not going to step off the plane with a brick of cocaine in our bags like in the movies. We’ll keep our noses clean and avoid looking anyone in the eye. How’s that?” I asked.

  Clutch looked at both of us. “Sure, a playboy who can’t keep his hands off other guys’ girls and a hothead who throws his fist as easily as other people change their fucking underwear.” He looked over at Nix. “What could go wrong?”

  Chapter 19

  Cassie

  It was hard to know if I’d ever get used to living in a city where personal space was at a minimum. Living in an apartment building with people making noise beneath, above and on both sides was especially hard after living in a quiet, little house with Dray outside of the city. Our house had had its own little yard where I’d started an herb garden. I’d had dreams of saving enough money to buy the place eventually. It made me sad to think of it. For a brief moment in time, it had all been happening the way I’d imagined it.

  My neighbor’s television was just loud enough to produce an annoying vibration through the wall. The person above me had some strange ritual every evening that sounded liked someone poking at the floor with a pool cue. The sharp jarring sound would make its way across the ceiling of my apartment and back again six times and then stop. The ritual began just as my phone rang. It was Nix.

  “Hey, Nix, you’ll have to speak up. There’s a peg-legged pirate living above me, and he’s pacing the floor.”

  Nix paused, apparently trying to decide whether or not I was serious.

  “I’m kidding . . . I think. A pirate with a wooden leg would not be farfetched in this building. What’s up?”

  “Just checking in with you to see how you’re doing.”

  “That’s sweet of you. The new girl sucks, huh?”

  “Hell, Cassie, you don’t know the half of it. Am I doing something wrong in my hiring process or are you just one in a million?”

  “Uh, both.” I smile
d.

  “Then I’m screwed. So, Cass, how are things going?”

  The one legged buccaneer above stopped his pacing, but the television next door droned on. I sat at my tiny metal table and picked at the sandwich I’d made. “I’m not sure, Nix. One minute, I’m thinking, this is cool. I’m working for a magazine in a big high rise building with other young professionals. Then, the next minute, I’m asking myself what the hell I’m doing here. I think it will just take a lot longer to adjust than I expected. When I was traveling all over the world for the internship, I always knew none of it was permanent, so I never had to go through this mind debate. Even if we landed somewhere that I really hated, it didn’t matter because we were only there for a few days or weeks.”

  “Like you said, it’ll just take getting used to,” Nix said quietly.

  “Everything all right there? You sound like you’ve got something on your mind.” Loud voices and heavy feet rumbled down the narrow hallway past my apartment and then a door slammed. “Sorry, Nix did you say something? Apparently, I rented an apartment in the middle of Grand Central Station.”

  “Sounds like it. I was wondering Cassie, did you go to Mexico when you were traveling?”

  “Yeah, we followed some doctors and medics who were immunizing kids in really poor areas. Why do you ask?”

  “How was it down there? Did it seem dangerous?”

  I pushed the sandwich away. “Now you’ve got me very curious. I know there are some heavy duty pockets of crime and corruption down there, but the places we went to were pretty remote. And, frankly, the people were more interested in filling their stomachs than killing their neighbors. And you’re asking me this, why?”

  “So, it’s not too bad if you’re a tourist?”

  “Unless you are careless and don’t watch your stuff. But tourists are easy targets everywhere. And, of course, if you’re stupid enough to walk around with crack cocaine or guns in your suitcase then you might find yourself on the wrong side of some prison bars. Then you are at the mercy of the law down there which is never good. Now you need to tell me what the heck this is about because you are making me nervous.”

 
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